All In A Day's Work
by Verb
Summary: Who do you call when the world’s about to end? Oneshot, Failsafe tags. COMPLETE.


**TITLE:** All In A Day's Work

**AUTHOR**: The one they call Verb

**RATING: **Kplus, because I think I may have used the word "Hell" at one point. (_checks story)_ Yup, I did. Twice.

**CATEGORY:** General, POV, Episode Based – 5.17 Failsafe

**SUMMARY: **Who do you call when the world's about to end?

**DISCLAIMER:** All publicly recognizable Stargate SG-1 characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment only and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was or were intended. This story and other publicly unrecognized events or characters therein are copyrighted to the author and may not be used or reproduced in entirety or in parts without express permission of the author.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So far I've written stories that have a focus on Daniel, or, at the very least, have both feet planted firmly in the SGC, so this one is a little different for me. It's what I though might have happened during the events of "Failsafe", the stuff we didn't get to see going on outside of the SGC. Also? Thanks go out to **Desert Blossom-by-the-Sea** for the wicked-fast beta.

* * *

There are many things that shape a presidency. An almost immeasurable mix of situations and people are responsible for creating a unique legacy that marks a man's term in the highest office of the United States of America. An office that has seen times of war, times of peace, times of scandal, and times of triumph. A place where deals are made, broken, and to keep its citizen's safe. A place where the President now sat at a desk in a room more famous than any other in history. And on that desk, sat a phone. 

The President had prided himself on being a patient man. It's what won him the election. The patience of a saint. But now here he was, chewing on the end of what he suspected to be one of his Chief of Staff's pens, waiting for the phone to ring and for a specific General to tell him whether or not he needed to prepare the world for an unthinkable end.

He had received Hammond's first call in the middle of dinner, just as he and his wife were finally starting to get some information about this boy his daughter had been dating. Not that he hadn't already read the surprisingly detailed brief that the Secret Service had just happened to have on the boy – it just meant so much more coming from his daughter. He had excused himself when he was informed of an urgent call that had required his immediate attention. He hadn't expected to return to the table to bid his family good night and kiss his wife for what he feared would be the last time.

_Asteroid. . . collision course . . . . sent to destroy Earth . . . Anubis . . . ._ George's words spun around in the President's mind. Even after all these years, he still had trouble believing that members of the United States military were visiting other worlds. And on a very regular basis if the accounting records sent to his office every week were accurate. The President remembers very well the day he took office, how the triumph and success of the day had been obliterated by the initial shock when he was informed of the full scope of his new position. He had fought for years for the right to sit in this office, the right to govern a nation at the will of its people. But nothing had prepared him to learn the true nature of the work being done in Cheyenne Mountain in the guise of Deep Space Telemetry.

_Right_, he snorted, _as if that wasn't the most obvious cover story of all time_. In truth, he was surprised so few people questioned the program anymore, even when shown how expensive it had proven to be. Granted, there was the occasional query into the spending of billions of dollars on projects no one seemed to be involved in, but for the most part the President's staff turned a blind eye and let the worrying slide.

And for once, he was glad that no one but him was privy to the information he had received. On many occasions in the past, he had received intel about the heroic actions of the SGC's premiere team, and had wished that he could do something more than a pat on the back and a few days' leave. Something along the lines of a parade and a really, really big cake. But, as he had always known, the life of the President is not always one of victory – times like the present were always lurking around the corner.

For now, the President had done what he could. He had ordered Hammond to start evacuating key personnel through the Stargate to the Alpha site, sending Major Davis out to Colorado ten days ago to help coordinate. The President was now trying to deal with the fact that if SG1's plan failed, he was essentially sending George to his death, along with all the other people on the planet. _Let's hope it doesn't come down to that._

**_Ring Ring_**

The noise startled the President out of his thoughts. He reached across his desk and picked up the phone. "Yes?"

_"Mr. President? I've got General Hammond on the line for you."_

"Yes, thank you Pam. Send him through."

"_Mr. President?"_

"Hello, George. How's it going over there?"

_"Not as well as I'd like, sir. We've just received word from NASA that SG1's ship appears to have crash landed on the face of the asteroid."_

The President let out a breath. "And do we have any radio contact?"

_"No, sir, there's been no response on the radio. But if they crashed, there should have been visible evidence. We've found nothing."_

The President made to say something, but Hammond kept talking.

_"Now frankly sir, if SG-1 survived and they managed to complete their mission, then no one needs to know any of this ever happened. If not, then there's nothing anyone can do that will make the slightest bit of difference. Going public now would only serve to create panic."_

He chuckled. "George, sometimes it's frigentening to find out that you can read my mind better than my wife does."

_"It's a gift, sir."_

"That it is. George, as much as I would like to keep this under wraps, the people of the United States deserve to know. Hell, the world needs to hear this. And I can't be the person to decide how the human race should deal with it – I need to get the information out there, damn the consequences."

_"Yes, sir, I know how you feel."_

"And I want you to make sure that you join Davis on the Alpha site. If SG1 is unsucessful, I want to know that you're there to help reestablish order."

_"My place is here."_

"I had a feeling you'd say that. And I guess there's nothing I can do to change your mind. Now who's the psychic. George, do what you think is best. Godspeed."

_"Thank you, Mr. President."_

The President hung up the phone just as Craig, one of his younger assistants, sped into the room.

"Mr. President, I'm not sure if you've heard, sir, but we've been getting reports of-"

"Of a very large asteroid speeding it's way towards Earth?" He cut Craig off. "Yeah, I'd heard something like that was happening."

"What should I do, sir?" Craig was quickly unraveling under what he though to be a very real threat to the possibily of him reaching an age where he could actually afford a new car. "I can get NASA on the phone and speak to them about possible plans or I can see if Swanson can-"

"Craig." The President's comanding voice cut through the young man and ended his nervous chatter. "I need to to contact Natalie and have her set up a press confrence in a half hour. After that time, after you've heard what I have to say, you're free to return home if you wish."

Craig swallowed and took a moment to reign in his tounge. "Yes sir." He left the room, leaving the President to his own thoughts. _How do you tell the world that Armageddon wasn't just a movie?_

xxxxxxx

Twenty minutes later, the President sat at his desk, making one last phone call.

"_Hello?"_

"Rebecca? It's me"

_"Honey, what's going on? Half an hour ago the Secret Service took Chloe and me to a safe house and told us you wouldn't be joining us."_

The President sighed. "I know, sweetheart, I know. But, truth be told, in the next ten minutes I will be adressing the nation, and I'm afraid there won't be time for me to make it up there to join you."

_"Adressing the nation? About what? What aren't you telling me."_

"Just . . . just know that I love you and Chloe. I'll tell you everything after the press conference, ok?"

He could hear his wife sigh on the other end of the line. Becca had always been a strong woman – supporting him when he needed it, and pushing him when he needed a kick in the butt. Not one to be left out of the loop of anything. Normally he tried to keep her apprised of his daily work in the office as best he could, but this was something he knew he had to tell the world at once.

_"OK, but you owe me for this."_

"Don't I always," he laughed. "I'll talk with you soon, Becca."

_"Ok. I love you."_

"Love you too." He place the phone back on its reciever with a heavy heart, praying that he would get the chance to see his wife and daughter one last time.

"Well, Mr. President, everything's ready." The President looked up as Natalie Willmas strode into his office. Mackenzie had been with him since his early days in the Senate, and had proven herself to be the best in the business. "Care to let me in on what this little address is going to be about?"

"Now, Natalie, what would be the fun in that?"

She shrugged, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get a single word out of him. "Worth a try. Five minutes to air, so we'll need you to head on over to the press room, ok?"

The President stood and gathered his notes. "See you in there."

Natalie gave him on last nod as she exited his office.

Straigtening out his tie, he picked up his suit jacket, placing his notes in his pocket and headed for the door. As he reached the door, he turned to look one last time at his desk. He looked up and thought _Guys, now would be an excellent time for plan three._

_**Ring Ring**_

The President stopped just outside the door. He turned, and stared at the red phone that sat on the left side of his desk. It was ringing. He rushed back to his desk and scooped up the phone. "Yes?"

"_Mr. President? I have General Ham-"_

"Yes, yes, put him through Pam."

"_Mr. President?"_

"George? What the hell is going on? I was just about to make a presidential address."

_"Yes, Mr. President. Yes, sir. Well, from what NASA and SATCOMM are telling me, it looks like the asteroid just disappeared."_

The President sank back into his chair as relief flooded through his system. "How?"

_"I don't know sir. It may have been the Asgard. But it's my opinion SG-1 had something to do with it."_

He rubbed his hand over his face. "Thank God. Any sign of them?"

_"No sir. But I'm going to send word to the Tok'ra for some assistance."_

"Good. Good." A huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Bring our people home, George."

_"Yes sir, I'll see to it."_

"And if I haven't said it enough, George, thank you."

_"You're very welcome, sir."_

The President hung up the phone, feeling more optimistic than he had moments ago. The planet was no longer under the threat of analiation. This was, yet again, due to the quick thinking and bravery of two Air Force officers, a civilian, and a Jaffa; group of outstanding individuals who probably saw saving the world as being all in a day's work. And for that, the President was eternally greatful. Without them and all of the brilliant people runing the SGC, the world as he knew it would have ceased to exist.

The more he thought about those brave men and women, the more he felt the nation would, at some point, need to understand the scacrafices and victories they had made to keep the planet save. He owed it to all of them to capture the most honest and truthful portrayal possible, something that would help the nation understand what the program was all about when the Stargate finally went public. He reached over to his phone and dialed his secretary.

"_Yes, Mr. President?"_

"Pam, can you call Mackenzie and get her to cancel the press conference? Tell her something came up and it's no longer necessary."

"_Absolutley, sir."_

"And Pam?" He paused, leaning back is his chair, unable to keep the grin off of his face. "Get Emmett Bregman on the phone. I think I may have a little project for him."

**.:End:.**

**A/N: Well, what's the damage:) I'd love to hear what you though, so if you're up to it, feel free to drop me a review.**


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